


Calloused Comfort

by Imriel_Montreve



Category: OFF (Game)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:35:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917751
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imriel_Montreve/pseuds/Imriel_Montreve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zacharie didn't expect anything to come of watching the Batter sleep, it was just on a whimsy. He knew the troubles the man hid, and all he wanted was to take them away, just for a bit. (Potential spoilers. I suggest having played through at least Zone 3, if not the whole game to be safe.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calloused Comfort

**Author's Note:**

> I chose my game screen name VANTAS for this fic. I had no idea what else to use.  
> As much as I love Batterie, I realize that there is no chance for this ship, at least not from Batter's end. His focus is too narrowed on his mission. HOWEVER, I ship Batterie as heavily dependent on Zacharie. I see his as omnicient, capricious, and all around a little bored. Batter presents something new in his life, so he always wants to be there right in the center of the action; Zacharie is the enabler throughout OFF. Now, while his interest is a platonic one, for the sake of my own caprices I SHIP IT LIKE A MOFO.

The residence district of Zone 2 was vacant since Japhet's purification -- in actuality there was a lot left vacant -- so the Batter had no problem finding a place to lay his head for the night. Rest, albeit interrupting, was necessary to maintain the strength of clarity.

Batter had broken in one of the locked doors and found a small but suitable room. It had a window, a bed, and a few scattered crates; he didn't overly need anything else. The room was dark, a hazy purple in the ill light but cut with heavy slants of white light flooding in from the singluar window. It mimicked moonlight at dusk, illuminating the block enough for Batter to see. He set his bat against the wall adjacent to the bed and sat down to remove his cleats and socks. He layed down, dipping the brim of his cap low to his nose, and clasped his hands over his solar plexus.

It wasn't long before Batter was metaphorically dead to the world.

As the Purifier's slumber wore on, the Merchant found his way down the winding steets of the wreckage of the Elsens' neighborhood to where the Batter took respite. The man left a string of wreckage in his wake and wasn't hard to find.

"Honte honte*, Batter," Zacharie chided with a chuckle, stepping over the kicked-in door, "leaving yourself so exposed."

The man gave a soft grunt in his sleep, sounding enough like a reply to bring a smirk to the Merchant's face. Zacharie mulled about the room, touching and admiring the smooth wood of Batter's weapon, straightening his cleats with a soft tap of his foot, and eventually leaping up onto one of the crates to settle himself down after taking off his pack and shoes. He criss-crossed his legs and watched his friend sleep, cast into a glow by the heavy slat of faux-moonbeams spilling through the window over the bed. Zacharie himself remained cloaked in the shadows.

After some time, there was a disturbance in Batter's rhythmic breathing, too minor for Zacharie to see right away. He began to toss and turn on the mattress, grunting and muttering in his sleep. His murmurs were soft and frantic with distress. Zacharie's curiosity moved him from his roost and he dropped down to his feet with a muffled thud, almost completely silent, feline. He walked into the light and sat lightly on the edge of the bed beside Batter's waist, leaning in to hear what he's saying. His fingers wander up to tilt Batter's hat off just enough to see his closed eyes.

"Hu--!" Batter's cry was cut short as he was startled from sleep, eyes flaring open.

Zacharie stared into the pools in wonderment at the light swirling in them. His hue was a heavily saturated red, his irises having the quality of liquid, ringed in such a deep carmine one would have thought them outlined with black. the polished shine was mesmerizing. He could have stared into them all night, but he was bereaved the opportunity.

Batter's hands encirled Zacharie's neck, strangling him. The Merchant tried to relax, body fighting him as he was deprived of oxygen, and put his hands over Batter's. The man awoke fully, realizing that the unknown assailant was only the masked tradesman, and backed off. His hands drop from Zacharie's throat and he falls back onto his elbows to pant.

"You were grumbling in you sleep, you know," Zacharie rubs the soreness from his throat. "Where is VANTAS? His absence certainly is cause for qualm."

"He needed rest." Batter says and fixes his cap back, veiling his eyes once more.

"Blunt as always." Zacharie laughs softly when Batter looks away.

Zacharie studies his stretched out form, picking small details out in his clothing from runs in the fabric to small burn marks. The silence between them was simply silence with no underlying notes of tension; Zacharie was caught up in nosiness and Batter simply ignored him.

"I'll feign ignorance for your sake, Monsieur Batteur," Zacharie started, breaking the silence, "what's troubling you?"

Zacharie knew there was more to Batter's aggrievence than just a bad dream, or rather, saw the mechanics behind his night terror. With omniscient eyes, he could see the full story, but he had promised Batter his innocence.

"Why do you care?"

"Consider it one of my capricies."

Batter sat up completely, moving his legs around the Zacharie-obstacle and planting his bare feet solidly on the cold floor. He sat with persistent silence. Zacharie looked him over and took in the subtleties his posture had to offer. The slight slump of his shoulders to meet the level of his clasped hands told him enough, as well as his elbows digging into his knees. He was rigid, stoic. Cold.

"I see the pain you're deluding yourself from," Zacharie stated, sanguine and matter-o-fact.

Batter glanced over once only to return his gaze to the bare wall straight ahead. "Why are you here?"

Zacharie puts his hands behind him and leans back. "I did say I'd show up in places you may need me, amigo."

"I don't see you with any items, nor do I have any credits," Batter scowls. "Allow me to rest."

Zacharie quite frankly refuses and turns to take off Batter's cap delicately, arching up close and leaning around him to look back into his pretty red eyes. "But you need me."

Batter stiffens and shrugs Zacharie away, not used to physical contact from him.

"You never cease to amuse me. I see your dark heart. I know more than you think do." The black haired man ran his fingers through Batter's fair hair before he tilted his mask up just enough to bare his mouth. His pink tongue darted out to trace the shell of Batter's ear as he whispered lowly. "Let me comfort you."

The Batter knotted a handful of dark silk in his fist and wrenched Zacharie back by his hair. He held him there, the merchant still -- though out of fear or calm Batter couldn't tell because of his askew mask. He grabbed the thing and threw it off to the side, the object clattering though he couldn't place the material.

He didn't care enough to know, he was otherwise preoccupied. The distance between them was erased when Batter crushed his lips against Zacharie's, kissing him rough and hard. The contact was surprising to Zacharie, but there was no way he would question it. He put any expectation or absurdity in his mind away.

Batter pulled away. "Your face is scarred."

Zacharie had long scars across his lip and nose, smaller ones near his eyes, and his cheek was marred from a long-ago healed burn. He was still handsome in his own right, despite the disfigurement. He brough Batter's hand up to his face and licked the pads of his two center fingers. "Does it bother you?"

He dropped his hands to unbutton Batter's jersey, deft and natural at stripping down the man. The ease at which he got Batter out of his clothes brought a smirk to his scarred lips.

"Not really," Batter said, his un-given shrug held in the inflection of his voice, "I should have expected that there was a reason you wore a mask other than you're just strange." The man gripped the hem of Zacharie's sweater and pulled it off over his head. The wrinkle of scars extended down the Merchant's neck but ended at his collar bones.

"You wound me~" Zacharie chortled, shoving Batter's undone jersey from his shoulders to start on ripping off his undershirt. The pin-striped fabric fell from the bed to the floor. With Batter now topless, Zacharie felt it was his duty to kiss every exposed inch of skin he could get his lips or tongue across.

They continued to disrobe one another with a violent urgency. Zacharie didn't know what pushed Batter,but he knew for himself he was giving into need and want for the sake of wanting. He WANTED to be used by Batter, he wanted the rush and pleasure of being needed, desired. He didn't care when Batter broke the button off his pants in his urgency to rip them off, he didn't care when batter physically RIPPED his boxer-briefs attempting to get them off. He liked the animal grace they shared. Batter's clothes were offered a more delicate treatement under Zacharie's touch. He pulled the bowed drawstring of Batter's pants by one side of the string, a teasing smile on his face. He then popped both sets of buttons on the pants, the pieces coming apart with metallic *pings*. Zacharie worked the waistband down his hips and pulled them off with aid from Batter. He looked at the sliders underneath with disdain; the Batter had entirely too many layers for his taste. He pulled the shorts down, Batter's boxers coming with.

Zacharie could help but lick his lips when he saw Batter's strained arousal.

Both of them were fully naked now, bodies in a milky wash from the window light. Batter thrust Zacharie up against the pillows and flat onto his back, rousing a little yowl from the man.

"I'm not a WOMAN, Batter," he said with a certain measure of venom, "but I guess I'll manage if you prefer this position."

Zacharie didn't get a verbal response, but Batter grunted at him and hauled his body to him by his thighs. Batter's legs were warm against Zacharie's. Putting a foot on the grove between Batter's neck and shoulder, Zacharie pushed him upright and away from him with a coy smile.

"Lube is in the side pocket of my backpack, on the crate over there. And I know exactly how many Luck Tickets I have in there, so no sneaky thievery."

The Batter rolled his red eyes. "I don't care enough for that, you impure son of a bitch."

Zacharie gasps softly in shock and then rapidly regains his composure enough to scowl at him. He rolls off the bed to get up and retrieve the lubricant fluid from his pack, grumbling somthing about hard-ons and sore asses. His foot falls came with a little pitter-patter as cold flesh hit cold flooring, and with each step he could feel the discomforting movement in his groin. The man wasn't sure what had possesed him to carry around lube, but it sure came in handy. Never could one could say the Merchant was under prepared.

When Zacharie turned back around to Batter he saw that the man had relaxed back on the pillows stacked at the head of the bed against the wall, looking completely unaffected save for his cock standing at full attention. The precome beading at the tip of his sheathed head made Zacharie's mouth water with a little ache.

He settled back onto the bed, tucking his legs under him. The clicking of the lid coming of the bottle of lube was obnoxious in contrast to the still quiet in the room. Zacharie squeezed a Lilliputian spherule of the clear substance onto his forefinger and held it up for Batter to see. Light swirled in the drop and reflected Batter's gaze in minisculed at the center. The Merchant turned his hand over and let the drop's weight draw it down, dripping on the heated tip of Batter's sex. He closed his eyes at the cold wetness that ran down his length.

"Watch me."

Zacharie eased back on to an elbow and put his knees up, spreading himself for Batter. His cock throbbed with the lust and excitment that seared through his veins in a rush of pure heat, flushing his entire body. The pearly drip of precome swelling at the slit of his tip finally capsized under its own weight and dribbled down his pinkened head. He knew Batter was watching him; he could feel the preternatural haunt of the man's gaze crash over his body. More clear gel was squeezed onto his fingers, making for a frictionless glide when he teased the tip of one over his pert hole. He gasped when the first two joints of his longest finger dipped in without warning, giving himself a little more than he had meant to. A hum from Batter harmonized with his gentle grunt as he pumped his finger inside him slowly, easing the tightness of his entrance. Zacharie was by no means a virgin, nor was he a stranger to exploring the finer pleasures his body had to offer when in solidarity, but he had trouble remembering the last time he was on the recieving end of anything in the anal department.

His grunts increased in volume both by decibel and amount once he fitted the second finger inside. The burn of being stretched accompanied by the exhilaration of touching himself so intimately -- finger FUCKING himself -- and having someone -- having BATTER -- watch him sent a hard spike of pleasure through his lower half that he could feel in each part section from the clench in his stomach, the tightening in his sac, the throb through his swollen sex, to the very quiver of his thighs. Zacharie puts his the minor arch of his feet on the insides of Batter's muscular thighs, parting his legs like a fable sea as he inched himself closer and ever closer to his temporary lover, spreading his own legs, and hole, further.

Batter was silent as Zacharie worked about scissoring and stretching himself, slicking up his passage just for the Purifier's cock; he settled for listening to the small, desperate, gasping moans the fell from the man's parted lips, the little spots at the corners of his mouth -- he errantly wondered if it was make up or permanent ink needled into the skin -- crinkled like dimples as the full lips were stretched with a rapturous smile.

At last, slicked and as loose as he'd get on his own, the twin rows of Zacharie's bramble lashes separated and he opened his eyes. The once crystal blue orbs were now clouded with lust. When he met with Batter's gaze, he could see the little changes in his stoic facade; his chest rose a little higher and fell a little deeper as more oxygen was required to fuel his thundering heart that sent an increased amount of blood downstairs to the lower parts of his body.

Zacharie folded himself over and slinked up Batter's inclined torso, peppering a trail of nips and bites to mark where he'd been. When Batter inwardly hissed with pain, it made the Merchant smirk to himself. He split his legs over Batter and straddled his thighs, heavy cock swooning against the furious protrusion of Batter's purpled erection.

"Now that THAT'S taken care of," Zacharie said in prelude to the warm kiss he met Batter with. His arms wreathed Batter's neck, one draped over the other to lock the man close in his embrace.

The kiss they shared was a satire of intimacy. Batter brought Zacharie to him with a firm hand, mirroring their lips together. Zacharie allowed his tongue to skim over the soft flesh there in askance, and when he was denied their tongues fought in the no-mans-land between their lips for conquest and entrace of the other's, so charged with an inoculation of need that neither noticed when the nectar of their battle ran down their chins. Zacharie needed it like the starving pabulum, so he gave up in his endeavor for dominance and parted his lips for Batter. There was no making sense of the direction the kiss took, Zacharie only aware of where he was touched; the tip of Batter's ardent tongue traced the roof of his mouth before running against the upper row of Zacharie's marmoreal teeth.

He was lost in the fervid heat, in the burn of this man's illicit kiss, hot enough to scorch away the thoughts of how wrong this was of Zacharie, how out of character it was for Batter to take part in any of this, to how this moment, the parody of a comforting interaction, was never meant to be, unscripted. The burn Batter created within him burned away the man's very conscious.

He didn't care how wrong he was; he felt too. Fucking. Good.

When Batter pulled away -- strong athelete lungs unwinded from their quondam kiss -- Zacharie was left as gasping mess. The Purifier layed the Merchant down and aligned their bodies.

Missionary was rather... vanilla for Zacharie's tastes. He stared up into Batter's claret mere, trying to read the man's expression. He was vacant, as usual. Zacharie wondered if Batter had ever done this outside of consumating marriage; he asked as such.

Batter just shoved the head of his cock into Zacharie in response. The man arched in surprise and swift pain, inhaling and flaring his eyes open.

"Don't talk," Batter told him, near snapish, and it was the closest Zacharie had gotten to an emotional response tonight. Progress.

The Batter was slightly more considerate as he continued his penetration, rousing coos and moans from Zacharie as he was stretched and filled, Batter's thick cock sliding in easily enough, feeling like a hot brand splitting the globes of the Merchant's tight ass. A live wire a pleasure shot straight up Zacharie's core when Batter sunk into the root, their hips flush. They remained still, foreheads together, panting, adjusting to the other's body.

Eventually Batter began to move, Zacharie focusing on the exquisite feeling of his thickness stretching his oriface, searing his inner walls. It felt so good, but there was no substance; he wasn't going to be satisfied this way.

"You fuck like you purify," Zacharie murmurs between kisses to Batter's throat, wrapping his legs around him.

The only response Batter gave was a low grunt at him and continued, his head low. His muscles rolled as the rocked into Zacharie with a gliding rhythm, shoulders and back flexed to support his weight, hips driving forward.

"That is to say," Zacharie continued, breathy, "automatic and all business."

The Merchant embosomed Batter with all of his limbs tightly and flipped them over, making sure Batter stayed inside him. With Batter now underneath Zacharie's hips, he braced his hands on the Purifier's chest and rode his cock, impaling himself. He arched over and brought their lips together and the two shared their breaths together.

"Let me," Zacharie grunted as he rocked his hips down to make Batter hit his prostate. If he wanted to stretch, he could have made one hell of a baseball metaphor involving sweet-spots and bats, but the lip-bitting, eye-rolling, thigh-quivering pleasure took up all of the fucks he gave. "Comfort you," he moaned, "and help you forget."

Batter grips Zacharie's hips and thrusts him down onto his dick. "What are you getting at? You said you'd play ignorant, act like it. And I thought I told you not to talk, merchant." Batter rolls them back over and thrusts into Zacharie hard enough to make him claw tracks down the Purifier's back.

For once Zacharie listened to Batter's wishes, settling for tight-lipped whimpers and pulling at Batter's hair. He returned his legs to Batter's waist, clinging and moving with him. Their physical connection was so RIGHT to Zacahrie, his body molding to and fitting around Batter's impressive shaft. Their breathing matched without effort, chests pushing against each other and the creating a hollow when they exhaled together. The sweat that dripped from Batter onto Zacharie shimmered in the errant light, making both of them glisten like moonstone. The Merchant deemed that only the most poetic of diction was worthy of their union, because the sordid affair was nothing of the sort. It was raw, rough, and speechless; both men let their grunts speak for them, let the moans say "That feels good, do it again," and the gasps say, "You're amazing, fuck me harder."

Their lips hovered close together, Zacharie's trembling, and this time Batter closed the distance. Zacharie sucked his lower lip into his mouth, grazing his teeth over it, falling into euphoria. He could feel Batter's breathing increase as he thrust his hips harder into him, cock ramming into Zacharie's prostate with each thrust. The electric bursts that shot through Zacharie made his vision flicker. Their kiss grew sloppier and more frantic as Zacharie neared climax.

"Batter, I, I can't hold on!" His body shook as he arched with an airy moan, smiling in rapture and curling his toes, getting louder and louder until he had absolutely no control over his screams or movements. He was prisoner to his orgasm, bucking with each roll, each crest, WAVE of pleasure, like he was some calm body of water with a mirror surface that was disturbed by the sensation, ecstasy rippling outward through his body, washing over him. Blood thundered in his ears from the intensity, and Zacharie hadn't realized he started screaming.

The Merchant collapsed back against the bed, limp while Batter continued to fuck him. Zacharie panted, lungs exhausted, trying to catch his breath. His come was starting to cool on his stomach, uncomfortably sticky. He gripped onto Batter's biceps, holding on tight and sinking his nails in, hoping to find purchase in the utter pleasure overkill.

Batter took a deep breath as his only warning before coming deep inside Zacharie, stilling and locking his hips with the shorter man. Zacharie's eyes flared open as he felt Batter's come gush up inside him, utterly shocked. He had expected the man to pull out and come across him like he was trash, but he hadn't. He had owned him, filled him. Zacharie couldn't help but moan.

He tried to arch up and kiss the Batter, but was denied when Batter pulled away from him, extricating himself from Zacharie's body. The Merchant's stomach lurched from the sudden movement and he tensed up, gasping. Batter flopped onto his side with his back to Zacharie.

The blue-eyed man just lay there, entire body throbbing like clockwork.

_I can't believe we just did that...that he let me...'_

With the black act done, Zacharie could let those thoughts he kept at bay flood in; they were coming whether he wanted them or not. Maybe he had done it because he was bored, maybe after such a long time he craved a level of intimacy. Whatever it was, he hadn't lied, Zacharie truly wanted to comfort Batter, to allow him respite in his mission if even if this room was only for one night. Omniscient eyes stared up at the ceiling, mind racing. Zacharie kept the extent of his knowledge to himself, for the sake of not ruining what was scripted to be a good game, but that didn't mean he had entire self-control. He teased Batter with statements intended to lead him on, to question his nature, simply because it was FUN. But he also pitied the man, the descisions the made, the path he chose. VANTAS was none the wiser in the matter, and that in itself was amusing fun. Zacharie was ready for culmination...

When the throbbing in his ears and gut subsided, he could hear Batter's steady breathing and soft snores. Zacaharie sat up and crawled under his arm; the least the Purifier could was allow him to share his bed after making a mess off him. Zacharie knew without a doubt he'd be walking crooked come 'morning'. Batter grunted in his sleep when his arm was man-handled by the Merchant, Zacharie deeming Batter "damaged goods" and not handling him with the normal carehe gave his wares. The tough-love suited them though and Zacharie gave a smile when Batter pulled him against his chest. He felt as though at least some part of it was requitted, whatever IT was. He carded his fingers over Batter's forearm, warmed in his embrace, and closed his eyes.

He wondered if Batter would regret this. It didn't matter, Zacharie supposed. Tomorrow they could turn all the memories OFF.

>end<

2013, Jun 25/Aug 3

*honte honte - shame shame (French)


End file.
